


a quiet and deathly thing

by rhindon



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst and Porn, Established Relationship, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, why is there a tag for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:07:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27895045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhindon/pseuds/rhindon
Summary: There's something to be said about fucking your friend in a walled-off city.And then there's Ecthelion, spread out on his bed.
Relationships: Ecthelion of the Fountain/Glorfindel
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	a quiet and deathly thing

“Hey, beautiful.”

He poked at the foot sticking out. From underneath the blanket, a lumpy shape groaned and kicked.

“Nngh.”

“Are you asleep?”

“Not now, I'm not.”

The shape sat up, and Glorfindel, tired as he was, couldn't help but snort a laugh. A pair of silver eyes glared at him balefully. Ecthelion's hair was a mess of tangles. It wasn't as bad as Glorfindel's could get, but certainly enough to hint that he had not been lying still. Glorfindel kissed his forehead and almost ended up straddling him in the process. Ecthelion did not protest.

“Forgot to braid it?” Glorfindel asked, teasing out a knot where his fingers found it. Instead of an answer, he ended up with a warm nuzzle against the side of his neck.

Well, if that was how he wanted to play it.

A gentle push was all it took to put Ecthelion on his back again. The room was dark, and Ecthelion's face notoriously hard to read even under the light of the Sun, but Glorfindel thought there was something like amusement there. The thin blanket was the only thing between their bodies. Glorfindel had shed his cloak, vest, and boots on his way to Ecthleion's bedroom, and Ecthelion was in his nightshirt and a pair of loose pants. It shouldn't take long to undo the laces on that shirt. But all Ecthelion did was look up at him through dark lashes, arms spread wide on the bed. Arrogant. Inviting. Glorfindel grinned.

He made quick work of his own clothes, and also a bit of a production; Ecthelion smiled lazily to see him fold them up and set them down on the floor by the foot of the bed. He'd never been self-conscious about nudity. There might be Noldorin blood running in his veins, and he might be here on the wrong side of the Sundering Seas, but still he was as Vanyarin as they came, and Ecthelion had long since grown used to his quirk. Didn't mean that Ecthelion ever lost his discomfort. That was fun, too, when they were in the mood for it, but tonight . . .

The council had been a long one, and one Ecthelion had prepared for over a fortnight. Glorfindel hadn't attended, knowing that any contribution he made would end up fodder for the other side more often than not, and instead had volunteered to patrol the Gates. Now that he'd returned he was exhausted to the bone and, frankly, wouldn't have minded skipping entertainment. But. Ecthelion blinked slowly, his eyelids fluttering, almost transluscent in the dim light, and Glorfindel knew his gaze was nothing if not appreciative. Couldn't exactly turn down a look like that, could he?

“Will you make me do all the work?” he still asked, reaching down to shift the blanket out of the way. A soft laugh escaped from Ecthelion's lips, laughter that Glorfindel kissed at hugrily. It was an open-mouthed kiss from the start, wet and sloppy, and Ecthelion barely lifted his head from the sheets during the whole breathless thing, shaking gently from laughing and somehow cradling Glorfindel's jaw with a hand. Glorfindel moved on to lick at his wrist, and then his palm. Ecthelion might or might not have rolled his eyes. It really was rather hard to see.

“Could I?”

Ecthelion's voice had dropped a register. Glorfindel felt a pang deep in his stomach.

“Aren't you feeling lordly today, doll.”

“I was feeling rather sleepy, until a mutt decided to climb on my bed,” grunted Ecthelion, and dragged him into another kiss.

He must have been in an unusually good mood, or an unusually foul one, to act like such a prick - and all the tangles in his hair were pretty much invisible, after all, splayed on the white sheets like this. Glorfindel moved down his neck and busied himself with getting the pants off him, now, right this second. He was also possibly sucking some bruises onto Ecthelion's collarbone, but it wasn't as if Ecthelion was complaining.

Right, the pants were off, and holy shit Ecthelion was half hard already. That was when Glorfindel noticed the considerable inconvenience in his own body parts, hello there, and he groaned out loud. Ecthelion's shirt was still half on, the laces undone but not yet shrugged off, and never in a million years would Glorfindel admit that this was a sight that could get him hard faster than a hound of Valinor. The Lord of the Fountains spread out on his bed like a debauched youth, all the traces of the day gone from that fair face. So very easy to forget that his was the blade deadlier than any in the city, his was the voice that had sung its fountains to life.

Glorfindel settled between a pair of bared thighs, and put his hands on either side of Ecthelion's narrow waist. If he closed his eyes he was sure he'd feel a thrum of ancient power beneath the skin.

“Well?” Ecthelion asked. “Don't fall asleep on me here, sweetheart, I might not forgive you for that.”

“Shut up,” said Glorfindel.

He found the bottle of lubricant where he expected to - between the mattress and the frame of the bed, stuck there since the day before yesterday - and poured a generous amount on his hand. Ecthelion's bedroom wasn't the coziest place in Gondolin (and likely ranked in the lower quadrant), but the bed itself was warm, if a bit firm. Winter was fast approaching outside the thin stone walls, and yet here they were, cocks hanging out, about to engage in something forbidden in all the realms of Beleriand.

It never failed to strike Glorfindel as particularly funny. Ecthelion rolled his eyes, again, and kicked at him to get a move on.

He barely squirmed at the first finger, and the second, and only started to shift around when Glorfindel pushed in deeper. His skin, fair as it was, didn't blush easily. You had to read his whole body to know when things started to get heated for him, had to look for the muscles on his stomach clenching, his ribs expanding just that bit too fast, his long, calloused fingers twitching on the sheets - and even then, the first moment he made a sound always came as a shock, that soft, fair voice already half broken if it had even managed to slip out. Glorfindel watched him turn his face away, raising the back of one hand near to his lips, and thought: _almost_.

Incidentally, that was when he pressed the tip of his cock near his fingers.

Ecthelion drew in a shuddering breath. Glorfindel slowly removed the fingers, gripped his hips tightly, and began to push in earnest. The other hand, Ecthlion's left, scrabbled to grip his right. He wondered for a second if he hadn't prepared enough, but then the grip hardened, Ecthelion was outright glaring at him, and he pushed in another inch. Ecthelion moaned.

“I'm going to fuck you,” he said, although he was more than two thirds of his way in now, and oh Eru it was hot and tight and he wasn't really sure he could last much longer, “and you'll make such pretty sounds for me, won't you, doll? I'm going to fuck you so hard they'll hear you in the King's Palace.”

“Liar,” said Ecthelion, and there was something akin to a challenge in his eyes.

Glorfindel slammed in. Ecthelion clenched down, hard, a scream bitten off before it ever passed his lips, his hand on Glorfindel's gripping tight enough to bruise. Glorfindel nearly collapsed on top of him then, the heat around his cock going straight to his head, dizzy with the delicious way Ecthelion's body pulsed around it, and he almost spilled then and there. He barely had the presence of mind to pull out again; and then he pushed back in, his balls slapping against Ecthelion's ass and okay, maybe that had been too much lube because the sound it made was practically obscene. He took away his free hand to touch where they were joined and found them soaking. Ecthelion cursed under his breath. Glorfindel closed his eyes.

Setting the pace was easier thought than done, but Glorfindel knew this part by rote, at least, and soon enough he was thrusting fast enough the sounds slipping from Ecthelion's mouth never really ended, just came out in a long string of moans and hitches, and he found the sweet spot inside him and Ecthelion coughed out a single word, “Fuck”. Glorfindel might have replied _that's the idea_ except then Ecthelion would have literally gutted him, his ass full of cock or not. Instead Glorfindel grabbed Ecthelion's cock and jerked it hard.

“You little . . . shit!”

“Come on, you can be nicer than that, you know. Kind of a naughty word for such a pretty face, isn't it?” Glorfindel leant down so that his lips were right next to Ecthelion's ears, and Ecthelion hissed and twisted, pressing the entire side of his face into the sheets so hard that if it hadn't been him, Glorfindel would have worried something was getting sprained. As it was, there were long, lean legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him in, urging him wordlessly, and he was only all too happy to oblige.

The heat was so good, and now that they were really getting a move on, Glorfindel realized there were certain parts in Ecthelion's body that were still soft and relaxed from rest, his muscles not so tense and his breaths shallower than usual. Ecthelion's cock jumped in his hand. For a second he regretted having woken him up at all, when he could have - like that one time months ago, he could've slipped under the blankets, sucked him until he was hard with a finger up his ass, fucked him awake and listened to that startled moan slipping out. Too bad. He was balls-deep in Ecthelion now anyways, and there was something bright and dangerous in those eyes that met his. Like the clearest light of Telperion.

Ecthelion shifted and then threw his head back, strands of dark hair cutting cracks across his shoulders. Glorfindel bent down and kissed one end of his jaw, whispered words he wasn't even sure of the meaning. Ecthelion held up a hand as if to push him away. They were both breathing so hard it was difficult to tell who was more aroused, who was closer to the edge, but Glorfindel thrust in, snapping his hips, and Ecthelion choked on another harsh sound.

“Let me hear you,” said Glorfindel, more out of habit than anything.

“Make me,” Ecthelion taunted.

The thing was, for being lauded as having the fairest voice in Gondolin, Ecthelion rather landed on the quiet side. Most people were fooled too easily by his crisp tone to realize that he almost never raised his voice, and those that weren't assumed he just didn't have much of a temper. Glorfindel knew better. One day, Ecthelion was going to lose his shit, and lose it so spectacularly the aftermath would be the stuff of songs for ages, and even then he would be quiet. Softly speaking such terrible words. Glorfindel dreamed it every other month.

Turgon once said that every relationship had a question buried deep within, and he guessed this was theirs: could he make him scream. Glorfindel pressed down his thumb firmly on Ecthelion's cock, on that sensitive little slit on its head, and Ecthelion's breath caught in his throat. Whenever Glorfindel was the one doing the fucking it was a near-silent affair, which was somewhat annoying even if he managed to ignore all the other garbage they dragged into it. He himself could never keep his mouth shut.

Ecthelion's breaths were coming in little gasps now, low moans that made pools of light somewhere at the back of Glorfindel's head. It broke his heart. Such a sweet voice, broken down like ground glass, dripping itself to the climax. Glorfindel knew he was close, too, not that he was that far from the start. The hand on his wrist tightened its grip. He bent down to kiss Ecthelion. Without even realizing it his pace had quickened to a point it was almost brutal, and Ecthelion was struggling to keep his face half-pressed into the sheets, his shoulders bent awkwardly and still somehow better than any ideal of grace the Noldor had come up with.

Glorfindel reached out and tipped Ecthelion's face towards him, found the long lashes glistening darkly. “Come on,” he said. “Can you come like this. You're such a pretty thing, aren't you, doll, can you come for me like this, oh _fuck_ you're so tight,” and then his voice broke off and he slammed into that spot he was too familiar with and finally, finally Ecthleion cried out. Just a rush of air, not that loud after all, but ringing in the space of whispers.

They were both aware the answer was yes.

Ecthelion's body jerked beneath his. Thick warmth spilled on Glorfindel's fingers, where he held down Ecthelion's hip, and Glorfindel felt a shudder pass through both of them. The heat around his cock was so tight he could barely breathe. He'd hardly thrusted once, twice, before spending himself inside him, doubled over and shaking. Something akin to lightning blazed behind shut eyelids. Nothing compared, nothing. He was still moving, although he was softening, in some parts because he knew Ecthelion would be sore - and that was fucked up in more ways than Glorfindel could count in his haze.

Ecthelion said something inarticulate and reached for him with both hands. “Shh,” he was saying, “shh, sweetheart. Come here.”

Glorfindel did.

* * *

He rolled over, and then rolled back halfways, hugging Ecthelion from behind. He was still tired, but any sleepiness he'd had had vanished sometime in the middle of when he was fucking his friend. And wasn't that something, that he could just waltz into Ecthelion's bed, fuck him like they were on the shores of Cuivienen in the dawn of days, whisper filthy, filthy things into his ears, and still call him his friend. This body in his arms gone soft with sleep. His friend.

Egalmoth had told him once that he was just as odd as Ecthelion. With that worried pinch between his brows, Egalmoth had said: _You know Fountain doesn't really open up easily. Anyone who breaks down his walls is bound to be someone obstinate enough to persist, far beyond the point most people give up on. Even if they succeed, you know. Neither party is likely to willingly give up a relationship like that. I won't say it's bound to go wrong, but there's a high possibility it will._ Glorfindel had said: _Shut up, like you know anything about friendship._ At the time he had been trying to persuade Ecthelion to be his regular sparring buddy.

Turned out he was the one that knew nothing, though, so Glorfindel figured he should at least try to heed those words. He was probably an anomaly or something, stuck on Ecthelion's back like a particularly annoying briar, and on a certain level he knew that were Ecthelion to tell him to leave, he would most certainly end up giving enough grief about it for them to end up as mortal enemies. On the other hand. He also did know that Ecthelion couldn't tell him to leave. Not any more than he could pack up and desert Gondolin. Because it was a rare thing for Ecthelion to have a relationship like this, someone whom he trusted enough to hold him while he slept.

It rather felt a lot like walking straight towards that murky area Egalmoth had warned him about. Glorfindel sighed, and buried his nose into the mess of dark hair. _Well._ He thought. _Well. I love him anyways._

**Author's Note:**

> So my first fic in this fandom in about 9 months is... angsty porn. Yup. Please someone tell me this is a ship that's still alive. Why is this my life.


End file.
